


Feral dog

by PigeonMoth



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Dog Fighting, Feral Behavior, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omegaverse, Original Character(s), Original work - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:15:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24770701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PigeonMoth/pseuds/PigeonMoth
Summary: That’s when he noticed it. The change in the room’s atmosphere, the air bitter with fresh fear, and the shouts of the crowd. Rather than excited heckling, it was the strained cries of trapped animals and unfamiliar shouting
Comments: 5
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please be nice, this is literally my first time actually writing in years lol.  
> If you notice any spelling mistakes or have suggestions please point them out! The chapters will change to fix errors.  
> This is also my first post ever!  
> Summary will probably change eventually too.
> 
> Also Ik the title suckss.. Sorry.

The room was dark, cast in red light. The smell of blood and sweat filled the air. He was thrust into the arena. On the other side, a large, dark-haired man, taller and heavier set than him but Eight knew he could take him. His pulse pounded against the metal collar around his throat. Claws sharpened and teeth bared he made the first move. Lunging he tackled the other mutt. He felt his claws slide into his opponents’ stomach with little resistance. The mutt let out a ragged snarl and bit into Eight's shoulder, pushing against Eight’s own stomach at the same time.

Eight was kicked loose but didn’t give his opponent time to steady himself. He was back on top, then pinned on the ground. The mutt had used his own force against him. Eight drove his fangs deep Into the mutts arm, shaking viciously. He slashed at the Mutt’s stomach and felt his own chest tear open. Eight lurched upright, biting the Mutt’s arm harder. He slid out from under his opponent.

That’s when he noticed it. The change in the room’s atmosphere, the air bitter with fresh fear, and the shouts of the crowd. Rather than excited heckling, it was the strained cries of trapped animals and unfamiliar shouting. His opponent hadn’t noticed, and he was taken off guard. Shoved up against the walls of the arena the Mutt tore at his throat, only protected by the iron collar. Eight punched the mutt, blood spouting out of his nose. He was back on top again, ripping and tearing at his opponent’s face.

Then he was on the floor, something had tackled him. He was being pinned. Eight whipped his head around spitting and snarling, mouth foaming with blood. He bit into someone, and they swore viciously. Cold metal bit above his nose, and at his throat just above the collar. He had been muzzled.

Eight howled furiously, swiping and kicking at anything that came near him. Something pricked at his arm, and he stared at it. A needle with a bright orange feather was sticking out of him. Panic turned his stomach and he snarled, bounding towards the nearest figure. It shot him again. The pricking feeling in his chest this time. Eight dropped to the ground. His arms and legs felt heavy and numb, but he still managed to growl at the people encircling him. All went black.

~~~

Everything hurt. His head was pounding, and his mouth felt like cotton. The hard metal of the muzzle pressed against his cheek. He could feel that it would leave a bruise. His shirt, stained with previous gore and dirt, stuck to his scabbed over wounds. Slowly he made his way into a sitting position. Cracking open a crust covered eye Eight winced violently. It was so bright, too bright. His eyes were use to the constant darkness of his cage or the red-tinted arenas. Squinting he looked around slowly. He was in.. a cage... but not his own. The ground was made of cement, and the walls a cold metal. There were bars against one wall, showing him other cages similar to his. He sniffed the air softly and his concern grew. He could smell people, but not the sour smell of death and fear. He couldn’t hear the soft wines of the other Mutts as they tried to sleep, nightmares tearing through their heads mercilessly.

A soft tapping slowly came towards his new cage. Eight let out a sharp warning growl but the tapping didn’t pause. A man came to stop in the front of his cage. He was taller than Eight, with broad shoulders and pointed black ears. His tail hung low, a thick dark red, almost brown with a white tip. His hair was cut short and neat, a slightly lighter red than his tail. Eight inhaled softly. He smelled heavily of Pine and strawberries. He was an alpha. His green eyes cut into Eight like a knife. 

Eight backed into a corner, hackles raised and a constant low growl in the back of his throat. The man crouched behind the bars, folding his hands in front of his face and staring. “What did they do to you?” He muttered, seemingly to himself.

Eight’s own ears flattened, though they had been cropped -long before he could remember- to barely anything. His tail had been docked as well, now nothing but a nub at the base of his spine. Long enough to still be considered a tail, but nothing like it should have been. His hair was stained brown with blood and caked with mud. Cut to the length of his shoulders with a knife. Any longer and it would be a burden in a fight. Eight watched this stranger cautiously. His claws out and teeth bared.

The man put his hands up, stood, and took a small step back. “Can you understand me?” Eight pursed his lips and glared. “We only managed to get a few of you out,” He continued. “Most of the underground was already empty…” He sighed and tilted his head. “You’re one of five. The others have been taken to other locations… The boss isn’t sure how you’d react to each other.” There was a long pause, only broken by the sound of more footsteps.

A petite woman with light brown hair, rounded ears, and a curled tail appeared. Eight’s hackles rose once more. Another alpha. “We’re not sure what we’re gonna do with him,” She gestured towards Eight who gave another low snarl. “Seriously, we thought this tip would end up a bust like the last one…” She trailed off and glanced towards Eight before looking back. “We can’t really keep them in _jail_ they’re victims, not criminals. I’m sure this is terrifying. Not to mention he defiantly needs to see a doctor,” The woman inhaled sharply before continuing. “Mason the others were placed with officers, although they didn’t fight nearly as hard as this one did-“

The man, Mason cut her off “Are you asking me to take him in?” He was expressionless, and his voice gave nothing away.

“Well.. Yes. Everyone else here has family, they would be put in danger. Listen it’s not a perfect situation, he’ll be kept muzzled and possibly drugged temporarily depending on his behavior,” She eyed Eight.

Eight's stomach turned violently, and his ears shot up. He could handle being muzzled but he hated being drugged. He stared, hard at Mason. Would this man be his new keeper then? He learned quickly not to snap at his old one. The bitch was fond of hot pokers, and morphine. He was only fed when he won and was lucky to get scraps on days he didn’t fight. He decided against testing this man's boundaries much at first.

Mason sighed heavily staring back at Eight. “I suppose… I do expect a raise though Liz. Did you see Jake’s bite mark? It looks like it will scar.” The woman jumped up suddenly, and Eight shot backward snarling.

“I’ll do my best with that raise!” her hand landed heavily on Mason's shoulder. She turned and quickly walked away.

Mason looked back towards Eight. “Now… will you come with me without a fight... or do we need to cuff you.” He took a set of keys, as well as a pair of handcuffs off of his belt before slowly reaching up and unlocking Eight’s cage. Eight tensed but didn’t move as the door slowly opened. Mason stepped in, taking soft short steps towards Eight. When he didn’t react he quickened slightly before stopping a few feet in front of Eight.

Eight glared towards Mason but didn’t move. “Alright…” Mason murmured, reaching down next to eight carefully. Eight followed the movement, his gaze stopping at a chain he hadn’t noticed. It was attached to the collar around his neck. He let out a soft growl at the realization, causing Mason to pause. “Sorry about this… but you’re considered a safety risk to everyone around you right now.” He continued to reach towards the chain, finally grabbing it. Mason stared at the collar around Eight's neck. It was discolored by filth and marred by scrapes and bite marks.

“Let’s go then” Mason gestured towards the door, and Eight stood up. He winced at the pain shooting through his chest and shoulder. Mason frowned looking Eight up and down. “I guess you’ll be borrowing my clothes then.” Eight tilted his head gently before moving through the door. Eight could hear the strangers behind the door to the cage room. He ground his teeth as Mason walked beside him feeling a low rumble start at the back of his throat but quickly cut it off.

When the door was finally pushed open and the main room was revealed Eight quickly took stock. There were three people behind a desk, but he could hear more behind other doors. The room was extremely clean and just as bright as the other one. Large glass windows revealed that it was dark outside though. Eight paused staring out the window. He had never _really_ been outside before. He caught glimpses of it through holes in the building's boarded up window after a match and had sometimes smelt the breeze coming from a crack in the ceiling. When Eight was transported between matched he was blindfolded and deafened by tight earmuffs. Those were only taken off after being caged.

A low whistle came from behind the desk. A betta. “He’s got some eyes,” The man vaguely gestured. Eight bared his teeth at the man, though hidden by the muzzle. Masson just nodded silently as he went for the door.

The fresh air was amazing. Eight inhaled deeply. The air smelt like fresh wet soil. He could hear the distant rumble of vehicles and watched in awe as a moth fluttered slowly by, bumping lightly into, before landing on a leaf. He much preferred the darkness of outside to the blazing white lights of the building. He had only realized that he had stopped when he felt a soft tug on his neck.

Masson turned around. “Oh sorry,” he took a few steps back towards Eight but Eight walked to catch up. “My car’s over there.” He pointed towards a silver pickup truck. Eight started towards it slowly, continuing to look around and take in everything around him. His ears strained to hear the rustle of birds sleeping in trees, or mice padding softly through damp grass.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please point out any mistakes!  
> As always I am doing everything at 2 am.

Masson lived in a single-story two-bedroom house. The outside was painted a pale gray with a black roof. The front yard was bordered with 3ft tall hedges, and a small garden decorated a corner next to the front door. Eight was led through the door and flinched slightly as Masson flicked the lights on. His eyes had once again adjusted to the darkness of outside. He was immediately hit with the scent of pine and strawberries. His nostrils flared as he cautiously looked around.

The front door opened directly into the living room. He had never been inside of any of his keeper’s homes before. A soft-looking black couch sat on top of a blue and gray shag rug and faced a fireplace. The kitchen could be seen beyond the couch, separated by an island. One side of the island had dark wooden barstools. The walls of both rooms were a pale, almost white blue. It was cozy and warm. 

“I think the first thing we should do is clean you up,” Masson reached towards Eight slowly and unhooked the chain from his collar. He set it down on the kitchen island and gestured for Eight to follow him. The room was small, and this time had white walls. “You can turn the hot water on by pulling the handle this way,” Masson slid open a glass door and Eight watched him turn a metal knob sticking out of the wall. Slowly the basin started to fill with water. Eight stared, he had never actually seen a bathtub or shower before. In fact, he hadn’t seen most things. “and the cold water is this way,” Masson looked back up at Eight. “This flip turns on the showerhead.” He pointed to a separate switch above the metal knob. “I think your shirt will need to soak before we can get it off..” Eight nodded slowly and Masson popped a plug into the bathtubs drain. 

Eight watched as Masson exited the bathroom and started to shut the door. “Get me if you need anything.” Eight nodded again before he was alone. He watched the tub filled before turning towards the sink and looking into the mirror. He gasped softly and leaning towards his reflection. His pink eyes stared back, getting closer before his nose bumped the glass. He had only ever seen himself in puddles before. Leaning back, he wrinkled his nose. His hair looked far from it’s natural white, and was severely tangled. Most of his face was covered by the muzzle, but he knew it was just as dirty as his hair. 

He turned back towards the tub, a flash of panic turning his stomach as he rushed to turn off the water. It was an inch away from overflowing. Slowly Eight placed a foot into the tub. The hot water tingled pleasantly, and he quickly added the other. Slowly he sat down watching the clear water start to turn a murky rust color.

Eight wasn’t sure what to do now. He wondered how long he should sit in the water, and if he was missing something. He was cleaner but mud and blood still caked his skin. A knock came from the bathroom door. 

“How are you doing?” Masson paused, and when no response was given cracked the door open. “I’m coming inside,” The creaked as he slowly continued to open it. Slipping inside he glanced at the water before pulling the plug. Eight watched the water drain for a second before preparing to stand.

“Oh, no you’re not done yet,” Masson unhooked the showerhead from the wall. “You need to wash your hair and to actually use soap.” Masson flipped the wall switch and turned the water back on. He then grabbed a bar of what Eight assumed was soap and a towel. “Here, rub this over your arms and legs. I’ll take care of your hair, okay?” Eight took the soap and started rubbing it over his arm. To his amazement the clumps of mud started to disintegrate. 

Eight flinched when water started to stream down his face. He glanced towards Masson before continuing to rub soap over his other arm. Eight’s teeth clench as he felt shampoo poor onto his head, and hands start to massage his scalp. The only time anyone ever touched him was in a fight. He found it extremely disconcerting to willingly be letting this happen. After a few minutes of scrubbing his arms and legs he admired how clean they were. He could easily see every scratch, bite mark, and scar that littered his pale skin. His other keeper called them “Trophies”. Eight almost felt proud to show them off. 

“Alright now we’ve got to try and get your clothes off,” Masson said once he had finished with Eights hair. Eight could feel that his shirt still stuck to his wounds but figured it would be easy to peel away. “I’ll be back with some clothes,” Eight watched Masson leave the bathroom before staring down at his shirt. Slowly he lifted it up from the bottom. He hissed softly as he started to pull away a scab with it. Taking a deep breath, he quickly ripped the shirt upwards and tossed it onto the floor. He had large fresh scratches running down his stomach. Eight sighed as blood started to leak out of them again. The water had managed to remove a surprising amount of dirt from underneath his shirt. His chest and belly showed similar “Trophies” as his arms and legs. 

Eight quickly peeled his pants off, they were covered in holes and stretched enough that they were easy to remove. Standing up and stepping out of the tub he shivered. Water dripped from his hair and streamed down his body pooling onto the floor. He stared at it catching his reflection. Eyes widening his head snapped towards the mirror and he stared. He ran his hands through his hair, amazed at how smooth it was after being brushed. Eight’s ears flicked back as he stared at the muzzle covering his face. He could barely see through it. His hand fell towards his mouth as he tried to pry the metal away from his skin.   
“I’ve brought some pajama’s, I doubt that they’ll fit but-” Masson paused as he looked at Eight. He cleared his throat and quickly handed them over, before noticing the wound on Eights chest. “Oh, I’ll go find some bandages.” The blood had started to drip onto the floor.

Eight put the pants on before following Masson out of the bathroom. Masson walked down a hall and into a carpeted room. The walls were painted a light gray, with soft white carpets. There was a bed sitting against a window covered with fluffy blue sheets and pillows. Masson entered another bathroom and quickly came out with a small tub. He set it down on the bed, opened it, and pulled out a spray bottle and bandages. Turning back towards Eight he frowned. “This is going to disinfect the wound… but it’s probably going to hurt a lot.” Eight stiffened but nodded. Masson was right. Eight let out a hiss and clenched his teeth as it scorched his skin. The pain didn’t last long and went away after Masson had finished bandaging him. 

Eight tilted his head, Masson was still frowning down at him. Masson glanced away his gaze stopping at an alarm clock on a bedside table. Eight followed his gaze before looking back towards Masson. It was 10:23 pm.

“How does pizza sound?” Masson started back out of the room, and Eight quickly followed behind. With no idea what ‘pizza’ was he nodded. “Great,” Masson took out a phone and quickly dialed something. He gestured for Masson to sit on the couch as he headed towards the kitchen.

After finishing the order Masson made his towards the living room carrying plates, cups, and a couple soda cans. He set them gingerly down on a coffee table in front of the couch, before turning towards Eight with a soft smile on his face and sitting down next to him. It made Eight shudder. No one had ever smiled at him like that before. It was void of malice. Uneasy he slowly scooted away from his keeper. 

Masson’s hand was reaching towards a remote before his head snapped towards Eight. Eight jumped backward, a growl forming in the back of his throat. “You’re muzzled,” Masson stated, as Eight glared at him. Of course he was muzzled. He growled as Masson reached towards his face. “Calm down, you can’t eat with that thing on.” Pursing his lips Eight settled himself back down. As soon as the muzzle came off his hand shot up to rub his face. It was tender and he definitely had a ring of bruises around his cheeks and throat. 

Eight jumped when the doorbell was rung, and he snarled softly fangs bared towards the door. Masson rose from the couch calmly and answered it. A few seconds later he was back on the couch with a box. “Pizza’s here,” Eight stared as the box was opened. Inside of it was bread and cheese. It looked similar to what he was fed before but warm. Eight eagerly accepted a slice and took a bite. His ears shot forward and his eyes popped as the flavor hit his tongue. This was way better then he was expecting. Quickly he took a few more bites, before Masson’s face caught his attention. He looked amused and vaguely surprised. With a shock, Eight realized he had been purring. Baring his teeth towards Masson he stopped and backed away until his side hit the armrest of the couch. Masson put his hands up lazily before picking up his own slice of pizza. 

Eight quickly finished his serving before greedily staring at the rest. He wouldn’t risk snatching another piece. The first slice was more food then he was generally given a day. To his surprise, Masson plopped another large slice onto his plate. “Eat as much as you want” He murmured through a mouthful of food. Eight gladly accepted the offer, wolfing down two more slices.

That decision was almost immediately regretted. The food surged back upwards as he stumbled towards the bathroom. He barely made it before his stomach forced everything back out. He gagged violently trying to fight his digestive system, but ultimately lost. Wiping his mouth Eight reached up and flushed the toilet. Slowly making his way to his feet he turned towards the door to see Masson staring at him. Worry clouding his face he stepped towards Eight. Eight bared his teeth and growled. Pausing Masson backed out of the bathroom.

“Come here I’ll show you where your room is.”


	4. Update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short update on what’s going on.

So I do plan on continuing this, and I’m sorry for the time between updates. Some unfortunate things happened in my life and writing hasn’t really been a top priority. I think I’ll update with a real chapter sometime this week though.

Thanks to everyone who’s interested!!  
=)


End file.
